Zanzibar, Hastings

Thursday, 18.47 It’s tipping down with rain as our train pulls in, late, at St Leonard's Warrior Square station. It’s such a short walk - just across the Square and along the promenade - to Zanzibar, our hotel for the night, that we decide to forego a taxi.

She's not amused and at first, nor are we

But we still get soaked, and miserable; on the way we pass a statue of a very glum-looking Queen Victoria and like Her Majesty we're not amused either.

18.52 All cares are forgotten though the moment we arrive at Zanzibar. We’re greeted with a warm “Ah, I’ve been expecting you!” by duty manager Monica and given a quick show-round.

The decor’s very calming; the well-travelled owners have collected beautiful sculptures, religious artefacts and furniture from around the world and we spot many a quiet corner that would be perfect for meditation. 

Monica also points out the library of books and DVDs, from which we’re invited to help ourselves any time, and then taken upstairs to our room.

19.00 The eight rooms at Zanzibar take their names from favourite places the owners have been; ours is South America. It's fabulous, two rooms knocked into one, divided by a theatrical ceiling-to-floor curtain. On one side there’s the sleeping and living area, with a huge wooden bed and a dining table by the sash window looking out to sea. There’s even a telescope! 

To watch the boys go by!

The other side resembles our own private spa, with an immense bath tub, his-and-his limestone sinks, loads of full-size Elemis products and super-fluffy towels, robes and slippers. The only thing we don’t love is that there’s no door on the loo, it’s just tucked away in a corner; Monsieur 2 and I love each other very much and share most things, but there’s a line.

The bath is huge. And has Elemis goodies. Love.

19.10 We’ve been asked to choose what we’d like for breakfast from a lengthy menu and bring it down when we go for dinner. There’s no indication of what the supplements are for Champagne, or for having breakfast in bed, and then we realise why - there aren’t any. It’s all included! Neither of us can think of anywhere we’ve stayed where bubbly at breakfast comes as standard!

19.46 We change and go downstairs to the hotel restaurant Pier Nine, where another pleasant surprise awaits us -  a complimentary welcome drink! As we sip our G&Ts we choose from the modern bistro menu.

Monsieur 2 starts with fantastic crisp seafood fritto misto while I enjoy a fiddly-to-eat but delicious combination of dressed crab with potted shrimps. For our main courses I see off a good quality, if slightly dry, rare breed pork chop with mini jacket potatoes; Monsieur 2’s rib eye steak is on the blue side of rare but he decides to persevere and it’s terrific, especially dipped into the tangy red wine gravy.

Puddings - salted caramel ice cream with roasted mango puree, and Baileys arctic roll - are lick-the-plate-clean perfect. It’s been a lovely meal; with the room’s bright pastel colours and driftwood furniture, coupled with the sea view, it’s felt like eating in our own private beach-house.  

Friendly, playful service from L.A.-born waitress Jackie has been a hoot, and at just £40 each it’s one of the best, and best-value, meals we’ve had in quite a while. 

21.40
Back in the South America room we slip into the super-comfy bed and cuddle up to watch a DVD from the library - Shakespeare In Love suits our romantic mood and we fall asleep happily afterwards...  Friday 08.30
A blissful start to the day - a lovely soak in the bath with my free newspaper (another complimentary item that’s usually charged for!) Stapled to the front is the day’s weather forecast and suggestions for what to do in the town - so thoughtful!

Forecast for the day: fun and sun!

09.30
On the dot of the requested time, there’s a knock on the door and breakfast’s brought in. What a feast! 

Just the first part of our brilliant breakfast.

Great granola, juicy fresh fruit, Hastings kipper with melted butter and a poached egg for me and a full English for Monsieur 2, along with freshly-squeezed juice, tea and of course that decadent glass of bubbly. This really is the life.

Kipper for breakfast - delicious!

We fool around with our telescope watching the sea - and boys - from our window.

10.59

We know we’ve really liked somewhere when we wait until the very last minute to leave, and that’s exactly what we do at Zanzibar.

We’ve loved the warmth of welcome from all the staff, the sense of tranquility and escape, and the generosity of having so much included in the room rate that would be extra elsewhere. As we step out onto the promenade, the sun now shining in contrast to yesterday’s rain, we’re already talking about when we can come back again.

N: Zanzibar International Hotel A: 9 Eversfield Place, St Leonards-On-Sea, Hastings, East Sussex TN37 6BY

W: www.zanzibarhotel.co.uk

T: 01424 460109

E: info@zanzibarhotel.co.uk
Our rating: *****

Castell Deudraeth, Portmeirion, Wales

Friday
4.05pm. Monsieur 2 and I are about to embark on a six-hour car journey to North Wales; Portmeirion in fact, where a friend of ours is getting hitched.

Portmeirion: Fit for a queen.

9.30pm
There’s actually something rather magical about Wales. Its long, winding roads take you through some of the UK's most spectacular scenery. Hikers may collectively flock there to trek across its greatest mountains, but it’s also a wonderful den of romantic backdrops, vast caverns and the most breath-taking views.

11.26pm
It might be late in the day, but the Welsh hospitality hasn’t ended. We were greeted warmly and shown to our room. It's not the epitome of luxury, but it's modern, comfortable and has a little kitchenette.

The best bit. The complimentary sherry (which, we discover later, is refreshed every day!)

It’s no Tio Pepe, but its the kind of nightcap I need to calm my nerves after Monsieur 2's speed-demon driving. I blame Lewis Hamilton. Ever since he’s come onto the scene, Monsieur 2 has developed a strong affection with the accelerator. Which is alright for a racing track, but not the back lanes of rural Wales. I’ve confiscated the keys.

The Castell is at the entrance to the village

Saturday, 8.11am
Rude awakening by an over-enthusiastic old friend Caroline. Her greedy wants require a breakfast companion, and with her boyfriend sensibly declining (as is mine), I’ve been declared the lucky volunteer.

10.42am
This place is fabulous. Fabulous. Scoffing enough toast and tea (couldn’t face the fry up) to fuel our early-morning village walk we ventured out of Le Castell’s epic gates into the great outdoors. And how great Portmeirion is outdoors.

It’s a playground of pastel turrets and quaint cottages gently interrupted by the most bizarre pagan imagery. Everywhere. We stole around the village inconspicuously trying to re-enact scenes from the psychedelic 60s allegorical sci-fi tale – The Prisoner – which was set here, taking it all in. But before we knew it, we, like the Prisoner hadn’t escaped, and it was time to get ready for wedding vows. We'll visit the eclectic range of shops later.

Monsieur 2 is showered, changed, and singing along to MTV. I need to get my skates on.

5.18pm
The wedding was in the Town Hall. I’m sure the service was very charming, but we were distracted by the reliefs on the walls around us – a mixture of snakes, cherubs, and a horse biting a man’s privates. It’s all so deliciously unexpected and quietly alarming!

Ouch!

Lunch was fantastic, partly because the food was sensational - lamb roast, followed by a fresh and fruity summer tart - and partly because our table got on famously. Someone came up with the bright idea to run a book on the length of the speeches, which happily awakened everyone’s mischievous sides. The winner, sitting next to Monsieur 2, swung her arms with such jubilant triumph her wine was sent flying into the lap of an unimpressed, though he hid it well. His napkin took the brunt of the offence, but his shirt needs a change. So smelling like a Ian Beale’s freshly laundered catering coats, we’re ready to re-enter the party.

10.42am
It was around the time that I saw Monsieur 2 performing some sort of mime that I decided we’d better head for home, but Caroline had other plans which involved us playing charades on her balcony (penthouse suite) until 5.30 this morning.

Surreal, at every corner

Monseiur 2 busying himself making coffee in the kitchen, whilst I supposedly do the packing. I’ve found the keys, and as sorry as I am to bid adieu to this fantastically surreal place, it’s most definitely time to head home. And I’ll be doing the driving.

N: Castell Deudraeth, Portmeirion
A: Portmeirion, Gwynedd, LL48 6ET, WALES
T: 01766 770 000
W: portmeirion-village.com
E: stay@portmeirion-village.com
Our rating: ****

The Fox & Anchor, Smithfields, London

Wednesday, 17.50
Although it might seem like our life is all parties, even we have to work sometimes. Finding ourselves with meetings in The City on the same day, Monsieur 2 asked his P.A. - we couldn’t live without her - to find us a hotel near the Square Mile with a bit of character. She’s booked us into The Fox & Anchor, a ‘pub with rooms’ opposite Smithfield Market.

As we arrive, first impressions aren’t particularly welcoming - it’s a pub alright, and on this warm evening suited City drinkers are spilling onto the pavement outside. There’s a door to one side marked ‘Hotel’ but finding it locked, we have to elbow our way through the drinkers to the bar to enquire where to check in. The answer is: right there, so while the guy next to us orders two pints of lager and a packet of crisps, we’re filling out the registration card. It feels rather awkward.

18.00
As we’re taken upstairs, impressions don’t improve much; the staircase is dark and dingy and the carpet's fraying, not at all in keeping with the pub itself which from what we saw looked well-maintained. It’s not the end of the world but little things do matter!

18.05
We’re shown into our room, the Charterhouse. The bed looks large and comfy - always a plus - and we clock a Bose sound system, but otherwise it’s pretty basic. The furniture’s standard hotel stuff - not in keeping with the old world feel of the leaded windows, which on closer inspection are dirty - and the paint on the door is chipped. It’s fine, but basic, and doesn’t feel as luxurious as the very slick website had led us to expect. The bathroom’s better though, with an attractive roll-top tub and a drench shower, two of our favourite things. There's also a good selection of generous-sized products from Miller Harris, which we love.

18.15
We decide a cup of tea’s in order and search high and low for the tea tray; eventually we find it - bizarrely hidden away in the bottom of the wardrobe.

At least once tea’s made there’s a nice chaise longue at the end of the bed for us to sit and sip it on. We love a chaise longue.

19.12
Supper time, so we go down to the pub and take a table in a charming, wood-panelled back room. The menu is robustly British with some modern touches; Monsieur 2 sums it up as ‘pub grub deluxe’ and he’s spot on.

We both go for fish starters, potted smoked mackerel for me, terrine of Scottish smoked salmon for him. He’s sure it’s the same Gary Rhodes recipe that’s his staple dinner party starter, and from the looks of it he’s right - no bad thing, as it’s delicious, as is my mackerel.
Monsieur 2’s salad from the daily specials - chicken and peppers with mixed leaves - is fine but nothing, well, special. I do better with mutton t-bones and spring vegetable broth; the meat has fantastic depth of flavour, and the replacement broth the chef kindly whips up when I spot the dreaded celery in the first version is absolutely wonderful. For puds, we enjoy some British cheeses and ice cream-filled profiteroles. A bottle of Pinot Grigio rosé from the pub’s owner’s own English vineyard is a lovely unusual drop.

21.20
Food finished, we should probably head for bed, but can’t resist popping round the corner for a nightcap at The Zetter Townhouse...

23.15
Ooops, naughty Messieurs; we went for one and stayed for a couple. Now it’s time for bed; and as we're in Smithfields, we fall asleep to the rhythmic hum of the lorries delivering their meaty wares to Smithfields market across the road.

Thursday 07.15
After a rain shower over our plush bath, a spot of breakfast is in order before we head off. The menu’s very ‘blokey’, as are the customers at this time of day - City boys (and indeed, a few girls) having power meetings, looking like teams from The Apprentice planning a challenge. We feel a bit out of place in our morning casuals but our waitress is super-friendly (as too was our waitress at dinner last night) and quickly brings the coffee we need to get started.

We decide against the awesome-sounding City Boy breakfast - basically all the meat you can eat, with a pint of stout on the side - and instead devour steak and eggs with good crispy hash browns.

08.37
As we check out - if you can call handing a key back across the bar ‘checking out’ - and leave The Fox & Anchor, our lasting impression is of a place with good intentions, and great food, but which doesn’t quite gel as a whole. It is a pub with rooms, and a perfectly nice one, but it could up its ante by focusing on the finer details, and even unlocking the door marked 'Hotel' for a separate and more refined entrance for their guests.

N: Fox and Anchor
A: 115 Charterhouse Street, Smithfield, London EC1M 6AA
W: www.foxandanchor.com
T: 020 7250 1300 - or to book: 0121 616 3614
E: bookingscentral@hotelduvin.com
Our rating: ***

The Zetter Townhouse, Clerkenwell, London

Unassuming and oh so chic 

Sunday 6pm
The taxi drops us at the discreet pale blue door of a grand double-fronted Georgian townhouse on quiet, cobbled St John’s Square in Clerkenwell.

From outside, nothing gives away that this is a hotel, but from the name elegantly engraved on the door we know we’re in the right place.

Through sash windows we see a candle-lit room packed with people talking animatedly; it looks like it could be a particularly fabulous private party. Fortunately, we’re invited!

Eccentric and holding no punches

6.03pm
The eccentrically-decorated room is unlike any hotel lobby we’ve ever seen.

Crammed with bric-a-brac, taxidermy and antiques, this is a very cool bar that doubles as a reception for the hotel above.

We’re greeted by the very chic duty manager and taken up in the horsehair-lined lift - we said the decor was eccentric - to the first floor.


6.10pm
Our room is the stunning Townhouse Apartment, and oh boy it’s a beauty.

At one end, an enormous bed is swathed in luxurious quilts and topped with masses of pillows while at the other there’s a lounge area with beautiful period furniture.

Our very own Lounge Area

There’s also a selection of our favourite magazines - it’s like they knew we were coming!

More of the same please!

In the middle of the room there’s a writing desk, and on that a handwritten welcome note and a plate of fresh fruit - just the kind of thoughtful personal touches we love. We kick our shoes off, climb onto our vast bed and feed each other strawberries for a while...

Pleasures come with the personal touch

6.30pm
Although we’re booked in for cocktails downstairs later, we decide to see what the mini-bar has to offer and it’s certainly stocked for enjoyment! As well as champagne, wine and spirits - at sensible prices  - there are classic cocktails mixed by the bar team and sealed in beautiful flasks. We call for a cocktail tray and within minutes we’ve got a shaker, glasses and ice and are ready to go. All that’s left to do is stir and serve.

My Negroni and Monsieur 2’s Martini are top-notch, and a table by one of the tall windows overlooking the square below is the perfect place to enjoy them.

Atmospheric and full of character

7.05pm
We head down to the bar and settle into the deep comfy couch that’s been reserved for us. We’re given the list of 12 house cocktails and informed that the bar staff - trained by world-renowned mixologist Tony Conigliaro no less - can rustle us up anything else we might fancy. We work our way through about half of the list, both especially loving a syrupy, rum-based Master At Arms.

7.52pm
Time for food. Everything on the menu, devised by legendary chef Bruno Loubet, sounds fantastic so we order a selection. Little merguez with chick peas, lemon-juice drenched griddled halloumi and earthy roasted vegetable dip with thin slices of toasted baguette prove perfect for soaking up the potent potions we’re drinking.

Beautiful bathroom, with plenty of REN treats

9.12pm
Back upstairs we uncork a bottle of wine and run ourselves a deep bubbly bath using the gorgeous REN products provided. The tap’s at the side, so no fighting over who gets which end either!

10.07pm
Finally freeing ourselves from the comfort of the tub, we wrap ourselves in fluffy robes and flop on the bed. Monsieur 2 spots that there’s an in-house DVD library at our disposal but let’s just say we decide to make our own entertainment instead...


Monday 7.40am
We’ve slept so well and so long that we’re up with the lark despite not having to be anywhere. I decide to fix us some coffee and not only do we have a Nespresso machine in the room, there’s also a milk frother for making perfect cappuccinos! Such a lovely start to the day.

The Zetter Hotel

8.20am
Expecting breakfast to be served in the lounge, we find that we actually have to go across to the main Zetter Hotel for it. It’s no great hardship but it feels a little odd to be leaving ‘our’ Townhouse to eat! The decor isn't as homely and staff aren’t quite as friendly here either, but our full English breakfasts are still enjoyable. Breakfast devoured, we grab the day’s newspapers and head back to our room for a last couple of hours before check-out.




11.09am
A cheeky cappuccino, a reviving drench shower and a last roll on that sumptuous bed and we’re - reluctantly - out the door. In our fantasy alternative existence - the one where we win the EuroMillions on a quintuple rollover week - we’d live in the country and maintain a grand London townhouse for entertaining when in the capital. Until that day comes, we’re very happy to make do with The Zetter Townhouse.

N: The Zetter Townhouse
T: 020 7324 4567
A: 49-50 St John's Square, London EC1V 4JJ
W: thezettertownhouse.com
Our rating: 4.5 out of 5

The Hoxton Urban Lodge, Hoxton, East London

Shoreditch, London
Monsieur and I love the nightlife of London’s edgy East End but not the epic journey home, so just for once we’ve decided to treat ourselves to a night in a hotel. The Hoxton on Great Eastern Street is a great location, runs regular £1 sales on rooms, and bills itself as an ‘Urban Lodge’ - a home away from home. Perfect, we thought, let's give it a try.

Friday, 6.35
Entering from the street, The Hoxton feels more like a cool club than a hotel - the lobby is teeming with people, mostly trendy Shoreditch types but quite a few City suits too. At the Reception desk we’re greeted by a friendly jeans-clad girl who runs through what’s included in our (very reasonable, pre-paid online) room rate: WiFi, an hour’s UK landline calls and a light Pret breakfast. Amazing!

6.42

Oh how we needed that bed

The leather-lined lift sets the tone for the rest of the hotel - sexy, dark, a little louche. As we get out on the fifth floor and make our way along the moodily-lit corridor it feels like we’re in a David Lynch movie. Our room is large, light and plush without being luxurious, feeling more like a private apartment than a hotel.

Cute notes around our room - we don't mind if we do!

We’re certainly made to feel at home by the quirky signs around the room; they’re more like the kind of helpful Post-Its a friend would leave you than the usual stiff instructions we see in hotels.


Another homely touch is the free mineral water and fresh milk in the fridge to which we’re cheerfully encouraged to ‘Just help yourself’. We like.

7.00
The view out over the City is superb but we don’t have too long to enjoy it - we’re booked in for dinner at Hoxton Grill downstairs. The restaurant is located off the lobby of The Hoxton but is operated by Soho House Group, and it shows in both the decor (which reminds us of the dining room at Soho House Berlin) and the super-polished but informal service. The menu’s great, a selection of modern American diner favourites with some brasserie classics.

Loved the Hoxton Grill, and our flirt with the waiter

Monsieur 2 keeps it simple with tomato soup followed by steak and chips, both excellent - the soup flecked with shreds of fresh basil, the steak a 10oz rump cooked exactly medium-rare just how he likes it. I try salt beef hash - thick slices of good beef on a fat potato cake, topped with a poached egg - and tiger prawn and chorizo gumbo. I love the glossy, spicy sauce and huge shell-on prawns, but I’m not convinced that the slices of thin sausage aren’t frankfurter rather than chorizo. We’re glad we let our gorgeous, flirty waiter talk us into dessert; the raspberry ripple cheesecake and ultra-decadent banana fudge sundae are fantastic.

9.08
Stuffed and a little drowsy we decide to revive with a shower back in our room. The sleek slate-tiled bathroom has a gorgeous rainfall shower, just what we need to bring us back to life before heading out into the night...

9.40
The gay scene in this part of London is small but perfectly formed and as edgily unconventional as the area’s fashionable population. We start off at the George & Dragon on Hackney Road, a bric-a-brac stuffed pub playing great music, then move on to the Nelson’s Head up the road. Finally we head for The Joiners Arms, the cool, grimy bar-club. We love the place and only stagger out when the lights go up.

3.16 (ahem)

Quirky touches around our room made us feel right at home

Staying at The Hox was definitely a good idea - we’re falling into bed fifteen minutes after leaving The Joiners not the usual hour-plus. Looks like we’re not the only ones to have sampled the area’s nocturnal delights - many doors on our corridor are displaying the fun ‘Go Away!’ swing-tags and there’s some serious moaning-and-groaning coming from a few doors down...



Saturday, 10.20

Our Breakfast Bags were very welcome first thing.

Thank God we only have to reach out the door to their dedicated hook for our breakfast bags. Granola, juice and a banana, plus fresh coffee from the in-room selection, take the edge off our hangovers.

11.17
After a long shower, we’re feeling human again and decide to brave the journey home. Checking out, we realise it’s only the second time we’ve needed to interact with The Hoxton’s staff as guests are left so completely to their own devices. It’s in keeping with the home-from-home ethos but maybe feels a little impersonal.

11.23
As we leave, the lobby’s just as buzzing as when we arrived; The Hoxton rocks right around the clock. We’ll certainly consider it for our next night out up East and definitely be back for more fab food and flirting with the staff at Hoxton Grill.

N: The Hoxton
T: 020 75501000
A: 81 Great Eastern Street, London, EC2A 3HU
W: hoxtonhotels.com
Our rating:

Join us on Twitter: @deuxmessieurs
Learn more about The Hoxton's £1 sales at hoxtonhotels.com

Stratton's Hotel, Swaffham, Norfolk

Sunday 16.00 When by happy coincidence a planned visit to Monsieur 1’s family in Norfolk coincided with Monsieur 2’s birthday, we decided to extend the weekend and treat ourselves to a night somewhere fabulous after our few days en famille. We asked around for recommendations and one name kept coming up - Stratton’s.

Strattons Hotel

Tucked away up a narrow close off the market place which Swaffham is known for, Stratton’s resembles a small country estate - an imposing main villa, a couple of attractive outbuildings and a cafe-delicatessen, all within immaculate landscaped grounds. It feels delightfully secluded, despite being in the heart of the town. We’re immediately relaxed  - and we’ve not even checked in yet.

The Red Room has an open fire and a private courtyard garden

16.05

A couldn’t-be-friendlier receptionist, Michaela, welcomes us and walks us through a comfortably-furnished lounge - where one of the hotel’s three adorable resident cats is curled up peacefully on a chair - and shows us to The Red Room. We gasp as we walk in; it’s amazing. There’s a vast oak four-poster bed on a dais, a lounge area, a tea table with armchairs, a library for goodness’sake...I rack my brain to think of where I’ve seen a bedroom this opulent before, and then it comes to me: Chatsworth. When Michaela says “And here’s the key to your private courtyard garden” I’m already wishing we’d booked more than one night.

16.12
We make tea, slump on one of the three sofas and put our feet up. While Monsieur 2 flicks through the TV channels and logs the iPad onto the free WiFi, I read the hotel guide to find out what amenities there are. It turns out there’s no bar in the hotel although drinks are available from the (well-stocked) mini-bar or in the lounge; instead we decide to stroll around Swaffham and find a pub.

16.45

Bustling during the week and on market day, Saturday, today there’s hardly a soul to be seen in Swaffham. We head to The Greyhound (which appears in the TV series Kingdom) for a pint; it’s not exactly welcoming so we drink up quickly, grab a bottle of wine from the one open shop and head back to the haven of The Red Room.

18.20

Plush Bathtime Pleasures

With plenty of time before dinner we decide to take advantage of the 7’ roll-top bath in the bonkers tented bathroom (it looks like something out of Cleopatra) as it’s rare to find a tub long enough to comfortably accommodate both messieurs. We soak and soothe until our toes turn wrinkly, then dry ourselves off and dress for dinner.

20.00

It’s just a few steps from our room to The Rustic, Stratton’s restaurant. We’re greeted warmly by restaurant manager Charlie and given a table by the open fire. A fabulous meal follows; chef Sam uses only the best local produce and it shows. Monsieur 2’s leek and potato soup is creamy and seasoned just right while my duck pastrami and turnip sauerkraut is a clever riff on a Reuben sandwich. We then tuck into a Swannington beef burger - served with decadent ‘thrice cooked dripping chips’ and home-made ketchup - and sea trout with lovely, salty King’s Lynn cockles. To finish, I have ‘Millionaire’s shortbread’, a delicious deconstructed version of my favourite bakery treat, while Monsieur 2 polishes off a rhubarb trifle. To drink, how can we resist a bottle of The Rustic’s house wine - Domaine Gayda?

Oh Strattons

Fit for a ...

22.30

Thank goodness we don’t have far to stagger - we’re stuffed, not to mention a little tipsy. Back in The Red Room we draw the thick heavy curtains and climb into our luxurious four-poster.

Monday 09.07

We’ve slept like two particularly contented logs and after a cuppa to wake us up it’s back to The Rustic for breakfast. As well as self-service cereals and granola, some home-made, we’re given a choice of cooked breakfasts and go for the full English. Everything’s as good as dinner the night before, a perfect end to our stay and start to the day.

10.25

It’s always a good sign when you’re sad to check out of a hotel and that’s definitely the case as we return our room key. The staff at Stratton’s obviously care about every guest so much that I feel they’re even a little sorry to see us go. As we walk back down the drive to the coach stop that’s conveniently just outside, we look back at the beautiful place where we’ve spent a fabulous night and know that we’ll be back.

N: Strattons Hotel

T: 01760 723 845

E: enquiries@strattonshotel.com
A: Strattons, Ash Close, Swaffham, Norfolk, PE37 7NH
W: strattons-hotel.co.uk/

Our rating: *****